


For the Dignity of Wessex

by Pervy Anglo Fancier (Monsterunderkilt)



Category: The Last Kingdom
Genre: Angst, Hardcore, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 15:10:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsterunderkilt/pseuds/Pervy%20Anglo%20Fancier
Summary: Alfred summons Uhtred to lead him on a secret quest to save Aethlflaed. The journey finds them together, alone, finally admitting to, and acting upon, their deepest desires. Written due to the dearth of Alfred/Uhtred sexytimes. Enjoy!





	For the Dignity of Wessex

**Author's Note:**

> Like many of us avid lovers of The Last Kingdom, I was plunged into a deep sadness at the end of the 3rd season, leaving me bereft and longing for some serious Alfred/Uhtred action and finding little of it online. What ensued was a lost weekend of writing furiously to contribute some feels and squeals to this very enticing niche pairing. I hope it works for you, dear reader.
> 
> P.S. This is an alternative storyline for the rescue of Aethlflaed in Season 2 Episode 8, just so I can get these two alone for once.
> 
> P.S.S. I don't own any of the characters and I am not profiting in any way by using them in this fanfic.

 

If his experimental candle was to be trusted, Alfred felt reasonably confident that he could mark exactly midnight when he finally heard a knock on his chamber door. He paused his furious letter writing, placing his quill on the blotter to massage his hand.

 

“Lord,” was all the familiar voice said from beyond the thick wood.

 

Alfred picked up the quill again. This missive had to be finished before he could leave that night. “Come,” he said without even looking up.

 

Uhtred only opened the door enough to sneak inside before closing it discreetly behind him. He walked over to stand at the table where Alfred was seated, his slender, busy fingers scratching out ink as quickly as he possibly could. It was a skill Uhtred always secretly admired in Alfred—his deft and unceasing literacy—though he always found a way to take the piss.

 

“Lord, you sent for me.”

 

Alfred signed his name at the very bottom of the parchment with a practiced flourish and finally set down the quill to look up at his warrior. He breathed deeply, noting the slight odor of spilt ale and soiled rushes from Uhtred’s usual evening of carousing, but his eyes appeared as clear and alert as ever. Alfred stood. “I have summoned you for a mission of utmost secrecy,” he said just under his usual level of authoritative volume. “I already know what Odda is planning and I am not concerned.”

 

Uhtred opened his mouth to comment, startled at Alfred’s cunning deduction, but Alfred waved him silent and jabbed a finger at the letter he just wrote. “I am sending word tonight that Aethelred is gathering the ransom for my daughter, and Odda will only get to mustering his men well after daylight. But you and I, Uhtred…” Alfred stepped closer, leaning so he could speak at a whisper. “We are riding out under cover of night for Baemfleot. We’ll ride hard and have at least half a day’s lead on Aethlered and Odda’s men—”

 

“But Lord,” Uhtred said, a bemused smile on his lips betraying his complete astonishment at this sudden plan. “What do you hope to accomplish?”

 

“We will find a weakness in Baemfleot’s defenses and sneak in to spirit Aethelflaed away without any further talk of war or ransom.”

 

Uhtred’s jaw dropped open. “But Sigfriedd and Erik are not fools, Lord, they will have guards on her every minute—”

 

“Then you will be my distraction,” Alfred said, his words like a whiplash. “We will devise a plan during our journey, but we must leave immediately. We will ride for my sanctuary just east of Londonburh, then rest there until an opportune hour, well after darkness falls. You must not return to the alehouse or breathe a word to anyone.”

 

Uhtred watched as Alfred began single-mindedly gathering a precious few belongings for the trek, catching sight of his wide, wise, unblinking eyes without actually capturing their gaze. For a fleeting second, he wondered if Alfred wore such a look when he determined to send Ragnar and Brida to rescue him from the slavers. He recalled Ragnar’s words around the fire that night after they freed him from the living hell he had endured.

 

_I believe the King of Wessex cares for you._

 

Despite himself, Uhtred let a smirk twitch at the corner of his mouth. This was the first time he had seen Alfred act upon his personal feelings so unflinchingly, and Uhtred found he could not argue with him. “Lord,” he said with a smile, placing his hands on his hips.

 

Alfred glanced at Uhtred’s stance and then stopped to glare at him. “I am ordering you, Uhtred. I have no time for your childish insolence right now—”

 

Uhtred reached out and placed a firm hand on Alfred’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. He felt the strong heart throbbing steadily under the warm woolen cloak. A heart he had long tried to understand, just as Alfred tried to understand Uhtred. It was beating for his family, for his daughter, for his legacy as the dreamer of England. “For once, Lord,” Uhtred said with a nod and a warm smile, “I am not defying you.”

 

Alfred took a deep breath, pressing his lips together in a tight smile. “Thank you.”

 

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

 

 

They rode wordlessly through the night until dawn, then avoided beaten paths and only stopped to allow for the call of nature. This was more often for Alfred’s sake, as his chronically ailing belly had been upset by all the worry for his kingdom and his daughter. Having never been on a lone journey with him before, Uhtred never realized until then how much of an exertion it was for Alfred to embark upon such a ride, but the King endured it as well as any wounded warrior worth his salt, without a word of protest or complaint. Uhtred would catch the occasional wince or grimace, but it was fleeting, and Alfred was the one more apt to push on just as Uhtred was considering taking a short rest to drink or stretch.

 

As the last light of day waned, they followed a stream, a miniscule unnamed tributary of the Tamesis into the countryside far from the city. There, Alfred led them to a humble, abandoned stone building at the bottom of a hill, half covered in ivy and seemingly forgotten by time.

 

“It’s deconsecrated,” Alfred said as they approached the relatively new wooden door of the building. “But I have it stocked every so often by caretakers from Wintanceaster for just such rare occasions.” He dismounted and led his horse to the low-lying outbuilding beside the church. “We will rest here until daylight tomorrow, then go on to Baemfleot to hide nearby until darkness falls there.”

 

Uhtred followed Alfred’s lead, tying up his horse in the temporary stable and unhitching the saddles and bags.

 

It was not much more than a chapel, probably originally built as such for a village long since forgotten. Inside, it was relatively dry and mercifully not draughty. Uhtred got a fire going in a few minutes as Alfred found the hidden cache of bedding and food in a corner niche. There being no table nor chairs save for a few logs and a stool, they sat around the fire together while they prepared their repast. Alfred warmed his “broth” in a small pot while Uhtred chewed on salted pork and bread left by the caretakers. They even left a small pot of ale, and Alfred partook even though he was more accustomed to wine. Ale, essentially being liquid bred, seemed to satisfy him more than wine ever could.

 

They ate in silence, one staring into the flames with indefatigable determination, the other watching him as he chewed his meat. Uhtred marked the seemingly absolute stillness of the night, noting the baseline noise of insects and wind, so he may better notice anything out of the ordinary. But soon bored with this, he returned to studying his Lord’s manner.

 

“You speak a lot less when there is nobody around to do your bidding, Lord.”

 

Alfred’s eyes alone indicated that he had even been paying attention to the world around him. “And you are far less impudent when you have nobody to impress with your bombast.”

 

Uhtred bit off a corner of his bread and grinned. “What makes you think I don’t wish to impress you, Lord?”

 

Alfred sighed and set aside his bowl of gruel. “Clearly, you do, when the task suits you. According to your… perception of justice or morality, as misguided as it may be at times.”

 

Uhtred rolled his eyes. “I’m serving your purpose now, am I not?”

 

Alfred nodded and clasped his hands in his lap. “Yes, because rescuing Aethlflaed is objectively the right thing to do.”

 

“I think she may be more pleased to see me than even you, Lord.” He waited for Alfred’s anger to rise, but he only stiffened and averted his gaze to the floor. Uhtred wondered if he had touched on something in the King’s psyche. “I believe she fancies me,” he said with a little chuckle, hoping to diffuse the tension.

 

“I do worry,” Alfred said softly, “If she is resentful of my marrying her to Aethlred.” He breathed deeply and stared up at the small chimney hole in the roof allowing all the smoke to rise into the darkness. “I pray to God that he treats her fairly.”

 

Uhtred blinked. “If he lays a hand on her, Lord, I pledge to—”

 

“I would leave nothing of him for you,” Alfred said, his jaw clenching. He wringed his hands in his lap and glared through Uhtred, only seeing his own rage at the prospect.

 

Uhtred had never seen the King express his personal feelings so wrathfully before. His decisions were often hard but ultimately fair, as frustrating as they were in regards to Uhtred’s fate. But he was under the duress of holding power, issuing edicts according to what Wessex required. “Respectfully, Lord, those are words more suited to my mouth.”

 

Alfred was seething underneath his stoicism, but he finally saw Uhtred sitting in front of him. “We are not so different when all is said and done, Uhtred. Aelswith understands this at least as well as I do, but it concerns her more than it does me, and that is why she despises you.” Alfred rubbed his hands together and held them to the fire. “But how much could she despise you if she still loves me?”

 

“Very much, Lord,” Uhtred said with a laugh as he sipped more of his ale. “Though I suspect you must loathe yourself for how much you loathe me.”

 

“That is not true,” Alfred snapped, shaking his head gently at Uhtred’s assessment. “I only despise being a sinner, as we all are. But there are some men—Christian, pagan, or otherwise—who would be idle and unworthy of God’s gifts, who would be far more a sinner than you could ever be.”

 

“You surprise me, to think me not a great sinner.”

 

Alfred blinked. “You are a warrior, and a clever, determined man, Uhtred. You take advantage of your gifts as best you can. I do often wish you would… seek improvement in God.”

 

“I believe it is a man’s responsibility to improve himself. The gods will not help you win a battle if you do not go to battle.”

 

Alfred lifted his chin, considering Uhtred’s simple wisdom. “A man has many responsibilities... to himself, to his family, to his Lord.”

 

“Lord God, and King?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You have more responsibilities than I, Lord. The gods can take care of themselves.”

 

“Then you are fortunate,” Alfred said, playing the devil’s advocate in a small way. “And a King has the greatest of burdens. For he must do what he must, and not always what he wishes.”

 

“Do you not wish to do this right now, Lord? Surely, sneaking off into the night with a _heathen_ to save your daughter is not what your counselors would advise?”

 

“No, it is not. This is my wish. And I do it now because death will come to me sooner than most men, and what good is it being King if I cannot protect those I love?” Alfred closed his eyes and held his breath a moment, but he looked away when he opened them again and Uhtred felt a twinge in his heart, a sympathetic warmth spread in his chest. Then Alfred stared into the fire again, tears slowly streaking down one cheek.

 

Uhtred stood and moved around the small fire to sit beside Alfred, reaching out a callused hand to cover both of Alfred’s. “We will find Aethlflaed, Lord,” he said in a whisper, but with no less conviction than a battle cry. “I swear it.”

 

Turning to Uhtred, Alfred blinked at him, taking solace in Uhtred’s kind words. “Tell me, Uhtred… is it a sin to the Danes for a man to love another man?”

 

“We do not believe in sin, Lord. And I certainly love my brother Ragnar and my father.”

 

“I mean… for a man to love a man…” Alfred said, his voice stilted and unsure. “As a man does… a woman.”

 

Uhtred felt his heart leap into his throat, and an unexpected hope that Alfred was admitting to something he had vaguely suspected. That Alfred cared deeply for others was no doubt, but that he could feel genuine passion for fleshly pursuits—that was what Uhtred thought the King lacked. “I have known some men who enjoy the company of men perhaps more than their women,” Uhtred said noncommitally. “But it is only dishonorable if a man does not marry and have children.” He let go of Alfred’s hands and sat straighter, looking into the fire. “For my part, I’ve loved as I please. To my own detriment, as Beocca has chided me once or twice.”

 

“Beocca thinks you are wrong to love as you please?”

 

“Beocca says I am too much obsessed by love.”

 

“A romantic, then?”

 

“I am no more Roman than you are, Lord.”

 

Alfred laughed at that—a dry, but honest laugh—and Uhtred smiled even though he didn’t understand he had made a joke.

 

Alfred’s eyes flickered in the firelight, still wet from their tears, but brightened somehow. “You follow your heart.”

 

“Yes, Lord, I do.”

 

“That is good.”

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

 

In the night, the fire sluggishly smoldered to dark orange embers. The caretakers had only left one wool blanket in the store, and Uhtred gladly left it to Alfred, for he had slept rough more nights than most men. But even in rest his ears were attuned to unusual sounds, and sometime in the early morning hours, he noticed a faint rustling, like mice in a grain sack.

 

Turning over on the cold ground, he could just see in the ember’s dying light that Alfred was shivering violently. Uhtred’s heart throbbed and he sat up, hoping the King wasn’t in the throes of a deadly fit. He knelt closer to him, placing a calming hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “Lord, are you not well?”

 

Alfred breathed deeply, controlling the shaking for the moment. “Just cold, Uhtred,” he said, his teeth chattering. “I’m afraid my constitution sometimes takes the warmth from me. I will be fine.”

 

Uhtred turned and stoked the fire, then searched the store in the niche for more wood. After placing a few new logs into the pit, Uhtred brought it back to life, then sat down beside Alfred and adjusted his blanket. He was still shivering. “Lord, it is best if I lie next to you and share your blanket.”

 

Alfred did not speak, only nodded and shut his eyes against the newly rekindled heat. The flames danced ghostly red through his eyelids. He breathed more calmly as Uhtred nestled against his back without hesitation. They were back to back for a few minutes, but still feeling Alfred’s shivering, Uhtred soon turned over and wrapped an arm around Alfred’s middle, pressing himself close. Alfred held his arms tight against his own chest, but as the shivering subsided, he relaxed, one hand reaching for Uhtred’s and holding it tightly.

 

Finally closing his own eyes, Uhtred squeezed Alfred gently, tenderly. He breathed deeply the scent of his smooth, unwashed hair, which still smelled clean despite a full day’s hard riding. Before this mission, he had only ever touched Alfred briefly, when the King handed over his sickly son to be cured by Iseult. Every encounter was spent surrounded by others, in the company of those who depended on the King’s unwavering strength and decisiveness. There were times when he felt himself begin to despise Alfred, but he could never disrespect him. He always knew Alfred’s enemies were fools to underestimate him, and they always proved themselves fools in the end. Protecting him now, against something so impersonal as the night’s chill, softened Uhtred’s heart… and the touch of him hardened his cock.   

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

 

The morning’s light barely cracked through the shattered colored glass of the chapel, casting fractured light upon Uhtred’s face. He woke with a start, gasping at Alfred’s absence. “Lord! Lord!” he called, jumping up toward the door. “Lord!” he called again, scanning the bleeding horizon in every direction. He went to the stable and found naught. “Lord!” he called even louder this time, risking being found by anyone who may be passing by.

 

“Lord!” Uhtred called one more time as he rounded the other side of the chapel to see Alfred kneeling at the edge of the stream. As he approached, he realized he was bathing, cupping handfuls of the cool water over his bare shoulders and pale chest. He watched for a moment as his wet back and buttocks gleamed in the early sun’s light, untouched by scars or marks of any kind, as if he never knew physical pain. But Uhtred knew enough to understand that scars did not make a man, especially not the visible ones. It was a miracle that even after fighting in battles he led himself, Alfred remained so pure.

 

“I am safe, Uhtred,” Alfred said cooly as he stood, pulling his trousers back up to cinch it at his waist. He gazed at the horizon for a minute, taking in the beauty of a newborn day, as pink as any babe. He pressed his hands together and knelt again, praying. His hair was still dripping as he rose and turned back toward the chapel. He wrapped himself in his cloak as he passed by Uhtred. “You need not worry,” he said.

 

Uhtred sighed and followed the King back into the building. “I hope you slept well enough, Lord.”

 

“Yes,” Alfred said, stopping to turn to Uhtred and look at him face to face. “Yes, and I thank you for your … comfort.”

 

Uhtred only nodded, but his chest was still thrumming from his waking fear. He was filled with the urge to take Alfred into his arms again, if only to make sure this whole venture was still real. He realized how uncharacteristic it was for the King of Wessex to be hiding away in the countryside with a man such as himself, and he was grateful, but it was also dangerous.

 

Once back inside, Uhtred stared down at Alfred as he laced up his boots and dried his hair. He watched as this great man before him went about his morning toilet like almost any other, and instead of demeaning him, it seemed to elevate him even higher.

 

Alfred noticed Uhtred’s stare and wrinkled his brow. “Is something wrong, Uhtred?”

 

“Lord, I cannot take you to Baemfleot,” he said just above a whisper.

 

His brow knitting together even more, Alfred stood before Uhtred and looked at him evenly. “What do you mean you cannot take me to Baemfleot?”

 

Uhtred licked his lips. “It is too dangerous. We never should have come.”

 

Alfred took a deep breath, his gaze unflinching. “Every action I take is fraught with danger, Uhtred. Every King is always at risk—”

 

“But I’d rather not take you to it if I can help it, Lord.”

 

“I see your insolence has returned unbidden. Explain!”

 

“Because I care for you, Lord! I will not see you harmed if there is a better way!”

 

“I will not stand by as my daughter is humiliated like a whore—”

 

“If they capture you, you will be the one humiliated, Lord!” Uhtred said, his genuine concern leaking into his otherwise stern voice. For a second, he imagined how Siegfried and his ilk would react after stripping Alfred bare. Seeing his perfect, untouched body would make them first laugh, then tempt them to flog and desecrate the pious Alfred in the worst way possible. “Danes will torture and rape man or woman,” Uhtred continued. “It is no matter with them and I will not have it.”

 

Alfred’s eyes glistened with recognition. Uhtred was absolutely right, but he never even considered it before. “I am a fool,” Alfred said, turning away. “I ordered you to come with me on this… desperate mission out of… pure selfishness.”

 

Uhtred stepped forward and gripped Alfred’s arm. “No, you did this for Aethlflaed, as any father would.” He pulled him closer, gripping both shoulders as he held his gaze. “Lord… King… I will not have you taken from us. From Wessex. From me.”

 

With a shuddering breath, Alfred blinked at Uhtred’s hot expression. “You never claimed me as your King before.”

 

Uhtred nodded, and before Alfred could see the tears forming at the corners of his eyes, he pulled him into a firm embrace. He reached up and held his face against his own, Alfred’s cheek still cool from his bath. When Alfred’s arms wrapped around him, Uhtred sighed heavily, breathing in the presence of his King. Though Alfred’s physique was slight compared to his own, he was as tall as he was, lithe and strong. Suddenly, Uhtred felt himself jealous of any who had the fortune of holding Alfred in this way.

 

Just as suddenly, Alfred jerked back to take Uhtred’s neck between his palms and pull Uhtred into a bruising kiss. All the electric energy Alfred usually kept locked within his withering glances and unyielding stance came pouring out in that kiss, and Uhtred felt all his blood pool in his hips, desire coiling in his loins.

 

Alfred broke the kiss but held Uhtred’s forehead against his own. “Could you ever love me like this, Uhtred?” Alfred said breathlessly as he tugged his hips closer, so Uhtred could feel Alfred’s hardness against his own. “Love me not only as your King?”

 

Uhtred answered with a returning kiss, slower and more teasing than Alfred’s. He knew the depths of his love for Alfred, but never his lust. For the first time in his life, he was eager to submit, and Alfred’s unrepressed passion pleased him more than he could have imagined.

 

Alfred slipped his hands under Uhtred’s tunic and firmly, possessively raked his fingers over Uhtred’s chest, his skin twitching with gooseflesh. Uhtred reached up to mirror his action, but Alfred abruptly ripped the fabric open, exposing Uhtred’s whip-scarred chest before him. Alfred’s eyes drank him in, then paused to run a few fingers over the thick, pink flesh of the deepest slashes. Uhtred untied Alfred’s shirt and slipped it from his shoulders. Alfred licked his lips and kissed Uhtred’s neck, rubbing his hands down Uhtred’s back, all the way down into his trousers. Uhtred unbelted them, allowing Alfred to slip his still cold hands around his waist.

 

Reveling in how Alfred’s hands gained warmth the more they caressed his war-ravaged body, Uhtred managed to catch Alfred’s face in his own hands, kissing him affectionately. “I could love you like this, Alfred, if you would just trust me.”

 

Alfred’s eyes glinted with yearning, his kiss-swollen lips wet and open with an eagerness Uhtred had never seen before. “It is you who must trust me, Lord Uhtred,” he rasped, reaching down the front of Uhtred’s loosened trousers. He watched with fervor as Uhtred’s eyelids fluttered with his touch, the feeling of Alfred’s deft, long fingers wrapping around his girthy swollen cock. Alfred barely breathed as he began to squeeze and stroke in a practiced rhythm until it began to weep with pre-cum.

 

Uhtred fought to concentrate on giving Alfred the same pleasure, but Alfred blocked his hands from reaching for his own belt. Alfred stroked Uhtred a bit faster and more firmly with one hand as his other produced a small glass bottle of yellowish liquid from his pocket. He gave Uhtred a few more teasing tugs, then un-cinched his own belt to free his own solid, slender cock from the confining fabric of his trousers. Alfred’s eyes never left Uhtred’s face as he unpopped the cork on the bottle and poured some of the oil in both hands. “It is a remedy from the Holy Land, sent to me for my ailment, but I believe it can be better utilized now.”

 

Uhtred moved closer as Alfred slathered the oil over his own erection, and finally gave him winking permission to reciprocate his earlier ministrations. Alfred laid dozens of nips and licks over Uhtred’s neck and mouth as he did this, his breath against Uhtred’s cheek quickly growing more shallow with every stroke. Both men worked at their own pace, bringing each other almost to the edge within a long minute or two. But before he felt himself slipping, Alfred stopped and just squeezed Uhtred’s velvety head, wrapping his other hand over Uhtred’s, staying his motions.

 

“Trust me,” Alfred whispered into Uhtred’s ear, the scent of his natural arousal musk almost undoing him. He took Uhtred’s hands and quickly led him backward to the meager straw mattress on the floor. They knelt down, kissing slowly as Alfred guided Uhtred down. “On your side,” Alfred said, directing Uhtred’s hip with a steady hand. Uhtred obliged, his eyes never leaving Alfred’s as his King’s oily fingers carefully slipped between the cheeks of his buttocks. Alfred adoringly caressed Uhtred’s still-smooth ass, dipping his middle finger closer and closer to his anus. Uhtred stiffened a bit with the warm and cold sensation of Alfred’s fingers covered in the oil, and though he anticipated Alfred’s intent, he was still thankful for Alfred’s reassuring kiss as he finally slipped his finger in. He was so considerate and sensitive in his stroking that he impatiently awaited Alfred’s manhood going deeper within him.

 

Alfred’s clever tongue lay many hot, wet kisses down Uhtred’s muscled arm, all the way down to his hand, which clutched his own member, moving with the same rhythm as Alfred’s oiled finger. Alfred broke his hungry gaze for only a second to grab the rolled up wool blanket. With both hands, he firmly directed Uhtred’s hips to roll onto the blanket, lifting them just enough so Alfred could position himself between Uhtred’s toned thighs. Alfred leaned forward then, running his hands up Uhtred’s sides, raising goosebumps the entire length of his taught torso.

 

“Alfred, Lord,” Uhtred said, eyes smiling up at his King, “You are full of surprises.”

 

Alfred smiled as Uhtred ran his fingers along his cheek and into the floppy brown hair falling across his face. Alfred blinked slowly, then asked, “Is this what you desire?”

 

There was nothing in Dane law against men taking another man as lover as long as he fulfilled his duty as husband and father, but it was frowned upon to be the receiving end of penetration. To be the _woman_ , essentially the _property_ within the relationship. But Uhtred himself never thought of his wives as something to be owned; only an equal partner, loved and respected. He knew in this moment that Alfred felt the same. There was no imbalance of power or sense of hierarchy while they were alone like this. Alfred cared for him, respected him, loved him.

 

“I do not believe this is sin,” Alfred said during Uhtred’s slience, his voice as self-assured as ever. He pressed his body against Uhtred’s, embracing this daring and defiant man in a way he never dreamed he would be able to one day. “The church may believe it is, because the Romans were hedonistic and unabashed in their pleasures,” Alfred continued, “But I cannot believe in my own heart, that love in any form is a sin.”

 

Uhtred kissed Alfred’s forehead and held him, reaching his hands down the long plane of his warm back until he gripped his bum. He groaned as he rolled his hips against Alfred’s. “I desire this.”

 

Alfred took a deep breath and locked his eyes with Uhtred’s as he straightened, gripping his lover’s thighs so they lay upon the tops of his own. He rested one hand upon Uhtred’s twitching cock as he poured more oil at Uhtred’s entrance. He began to stroke Uhtred steadily, pressing his hardness into him.

 

Uhtred breathed out, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he felt Alfred’s head enter him, then more of him slipped deeper, judiciously, thoughtfully stretching him with every breath. Just the sensation of accommodating him was a luscious pain. He heard Alfred’s breath grow rougher with every inch, and when Alfred had finally sheathed himself to the hilt, Uhtred relished how Alfred’s balls rubbed against him.

 

When Uhtred opened his eyes, he could not see anything else but Alfred’s trembling lips and tensing abdominal muscles while he began to thrust within him at an achingly unhurried pace. Alfred caught Uhtred’s dark, pleasure-filled look and slipped in and out a bit more quickly, noting every breath and moan escaping Uhtred’s pillowy red lips. Uhtred reached down and made a fist around Alfred’s hand, both of them enfolding a slick, hot palm on Uhtred’s rigid shaft.

 

Alfred rocked ever more swiftly as the minutes passed, but the men were still anxious with need for this indulgence to last. Sweat bloomed over every surface of their bodies, and the room was filled with the constant sound of their labored breaths and slapping thighs. Alfred found himself energized by his efforts, finding it a rare and satisfying challenge to concentrate on Uhtred’s cock simultaneously as his own. He leaned down, holding Uhtred against him by the waist with his free hand, his quickened breaths blowing hot air across Uhtred’s slick chest.

 

Soon, though, a hitched moan rose from Uhtred’s throat. “Alfred,” he gasped as he felt his orgasm tantalizingly near at hand. “Alfred… Alfred…”

 

Alfred redoubled his thrusts and sucked in his breaths between clenched teeth as he heard his name melt over Uhtred’s mouth. “Uhtred… Lord Uhtred…”

 

“Ah, ah, ah… Lord King!” Uhtred howled, his hips bucking hard against their double grip. Alfred kept his sex-sore hips at a constant speed until he saw and felt Uhtred’s thick seed spurt over their fists. Then Alfred’s moans overlapped with his lover’s, and with a few more swift, hard lunges, Alfred groaned through his plateau of pleasure, filling Uhtred with his release.

 

Every breath was a liquid moan between them as their minds rode out the heady wave of gratification. Uhtred was glad to be on his back, for he felt he would have collapsed otherwise, but Alfred stood strongly on his knees before him while they gradually came back down to earth. Uhtred opened his eyes to see Alfred’s head tilted back toward the heavens, his lean, sweat-slickened chest expanding with every controlled breath. His one hand still lovingly held Uhtred’s softening manhood, tacky with his own come, while the other sought out Uhtred’s hand. Uhtred gripped Alfred’s hand warmly, their fingers interlocking.

 

Alfred stared up through the hole in the roof, eyes wide to his God, as was his way during prayer. His lips quivered with voiceless words. Uhtred wondered if he was asking forgiveness… but Alfred had no apology in his look. He was repeating the same phrase over and over, silently, but assertively: _Please watch over Uhtred, my warrior. Please watch over him, Lord, God. Please watch over Uhtred, my Love…_


End file.
